PADS #6

Wyse came to an undignified halt and stared hopelessly into the darkness. Providence had determined he’d best go into the room first, after all when in mortal danger sometimes you had to lead by example and his sudden burst of speed had take Elms by surprise. The entangled duo had stumbled some way into the sinister room before he’d finally managed to prise himself away.


Wyse was completely disorientated but he knew discretion in such circumstances was probably the better part of valour, especially when he couldn’t see the circumstances. Feeling what he hoped was a bed he slowly started to edge his way back towards the lit hallway. The illuminated salvation promised was abruptly denied by the eerie apparition of Elms in the doorway. Once again he was plunged into darkness.

‘Why did you scream?’ asked Wyse, desperately attempting to catch the shreds of light escaping around Elms.

‘What! I didn’t…’ said Elms from across the room.

‘Never mind, the friend where is he? He tried to strangle me.’

‘I don’t think he was trying to strangle you, he just seemed impatient.’ said Elms, stepping to one side.

The friend hidden behind Elms had collapsed to his knees. The rhythmic pounding of his hands crashed upon the floor and the reverberations swept through Wyse. The melancholic beat was only disturbed when he attempted to wipe away his perpetual tears with a devoted handkerchief.

Wyse immediately emphasised with the man’s emotional turmoil, he too had once enjoyed a special bond which had been cruelly torn from him. He gave Elms a reprimanding look. Here was the man Elms had been alluding to as a murderer, an assumption obviously based upon his own fears. He would have to remind him later of the danger of such conclusions without evidence, intending to instruct Elms to console the poor man he was standing next to, Wyse stopped.

‘How did you get you over there Elms?’

‘This is where you er, I tripped over.’ replied Elms, understanding the natural order of the universe.

‘But we both fell over together.’

‘I know I did,’ said Elms, ‘but I’m not sure about where you fell over.’

Slowly Wyse surveyed the scene, if Elms was across the room what had tripped him up? There had been the struggle by the doorway and he had assumed, correctly at the time it had been Elms who had caused the debacle. But now it seemed that Elms may not have been the main protagonist after all.

Hesitantly he stared down to where he was standing. A sliver of light penetrated the room and exposed what was once again attempting to trip him up.

‘Are you okay? What is it?’ asked Elms, moving towards him.

‘A shoe,’ replied Wyse, nudging it with his foot, ’one which is still quite firmly attached to a leg.’

He had found the dead friend.